


Taming A Stray

by EtaeWrites



Category: Thronebreaker: The Witcher Tales, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, I'll add more tags and characters as I continue writing, Kinda slow burn I guess, Multi, Violence, there's a crime subplot hidden in this if you squint really hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 01:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17715836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtaeWrites/pseuds/EtaeWrites
Summary: Gascon Brossard is an expert at what he does, an exceptional thief of the digital century. Getting caught, though, was not quite how his last coup was supposed to work out.Yet the people he dared to steal from offer the hacker a deal: They won't press charges if he starts working for them instead. Accepting reluctantly, he would've still never imagined coming to like them quite a little more than should be decent in an employer-employee relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've got most of this story planned out, and let me tell you, I have no idea how to write crime or thrillers. But my brain certainly wanted to put a little subplot of that into it as well for drama purposes, so. Please bear with me and maybe overlook inaccuracies, as this is basically a self-indulgent amaglamation of headcanons I felt like sharing.
> 
> Also a note on the characters' ages: while in canon it's evident the main trio are a little more apart in age, I felt like pushing them all a little closer together for storytelling's sake.  
> I've always read Gascon as middle to late twenties, so I'll stick to late twenties for him here, while setting both Meve and Reynard to their early thirties, with Meve being the younger of the two.

A woman entered the poorly lit room, her expression stern and unmoving at seeing the man that had caused her and a lot of others so many problems. A scar disfigured her otherwise pretty face, running across her left cheek down to her chin. It had split her lips too, but whoever her surgeons had been, they had managed to fix her up enough to not make her look hideous after the healing process. On the contrary: it gave her features something fearsome, something that commanded respect at simply laying eyes on her. Like a feral instinct hidden away in one's subconscious. Her blonde hair was tied back in a tight braid, like she didn't care at all about covering up what would make people stare at her in shock. She moved with a certain amount of natural grace, exuding authority with every step.

A man followed after her, his expression no more readable than the woman's. It was hard to pin down his age, the constant frown on his face and the greying temples in his hair most likely making him look older than he actually was. He stayed a few respectful steps behind his superior as she moved to the table, slapping down a file between her and the man sitting in front of her. He looked tired, the dark hair unkempt and loosely falling on his shoulders, rings under his eyes indicating that he hadn't gotten much sleep lately. Not surprising, after spending some time in a police holding cell.

“The _Marquis of Mutts_ , hm?“, the woman muttered, opening the file and flipping though some pages, stopping at one that contained the man's pseudonyms – the mentioned one being his most used – and a list of his victims. The most prominent ones had been highlighted, emphasizing as to why he had been arrested. Her gaze wandered to him again, and she continued speaking. “Strange choice for a name. How did you come up with it?”

The man she had addressed looked up at her, a hint of a smile tugging on his lips despite his obvious exhaustion. “Strange way to start a conversation”, he said in return, “You really that keen on knowing it? It's a bit of a personal matter, you see”

If it was an attempt at seeming mysterious and witty, Meve didn't look impressed at it. The man sighed theatrically when she only raised a brow at him, waiting for a proper answer.

“Alas, if you really want to know ... I have a very dark secret. You see, when the full moon glows in the night sky, I turn into a creature that's half man – half dachshund! Then all the other hounds of the night harken to my command” He let out a howl that made Meve pull a grimace, especially at his smug grin afterwards. He looked very pleased with himself at that pun on his name.

“Cut that out, will you”, she said harshly, not at all amused about that insolent reply, “If you don't want to hold a normal conversation, it's your loss” She had already been told he was annoying, cracking jokes at the most inappropriate moments. Nonetheless this absurd explanation had caught her unaware, especially in combination as to why they had arrested him in the first place. This man – Gascon Brossard – had managed to infiltrate the most secure systems, leaving a whole lot of people in a disarray at noticing their precious data had been stolen and most likely sold to the highest bidding competitor. He was a hacker with experience, able to stay under everyone's radar for a very long time now, only his obscure pseudonyms known. Their own system had been the latest on a long list of cases the police were now finally able to close. Catching the man had been a lucky shot due to an anonymous hint, everyone knew that. So naturally, nobody wanted him on the lose again.

“I just tried to lighten the mood”, Brossard replied, that outrageous grin still plastered all over his features, “And you wanted an answer to your question, so I gave you one”

“... You _are_ aware you're going to spend a long time in jail for what you did, right? Jokes won't help you at court”, Meve eventually continued, deciding to pay no attention the man's expression for the time being. There was no use to getting angry about stupid jests, especially since she'd been warned that he was prone to them. She had also been advised to simply ignore them if she wanted to get anything useful at all out of Brossard.

“Oh, I am. Not exactly something I fancy though. You don't happen to accept an apology and a pretty please with cherry on top to let me go? Maybe an invitation to dinner as well?”, his grin had changed into a genuine smile, charming under different circumstances but decidedly unfitting here, in Meve's opinion. She looked sternly at him, the ensuing silence lasting for a while until he raised his hands with a defeated sigh. Meve genuinely hoped he was finally dropping the act and would start behaving like an adult.

“Fine, fine. You're no fun, has anyone ever told you that before? Your buddy there neither, he looks like he had a whole net of lemons for breakfast”, Brossard mumbled, looking at Reynard for a few moments. The expression of Meve's head of security changed for the faction of a second at that stab in his direction, annoyance flashing across his face at the remark, but he caught himself before Brossard was able to notice.

“Stop joking around already, would you, Mister Brossard? This is about your future”, Meve said, turning her attention back to the captive hacker. He looked at her with an expression between confusion and distaste at those words.

“You already got everything you wanted from me, what else do you need?”, he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, “Can't tell you more than what I did to the police, so I'm pretty sure you know all the details. And now you start talking about the future? _Pah_. You pretty much just said I don't have any, so why bother?”

“Because we've got a proposal for you”, Reynard cut in, and for the first time since they had arrested him, Brossard's face mirrored something like interest, maybe surprise. Of course a proposal from the heads of a famous private security company would make anyone at least a little curious. Especially if that security company happened to be the last one on the hacker's list of victims.

“Ah. And that would be?”, he wondered.

“A deal. You've managed to expose cracks in the most secure systems around, left no traces and played with everyone for years. It would be a waste of talent to let you rot behind prison bars” There were a few moments of silence, before Brossard eventually spoke up.

“... You want me to work for you”, he concluded and laughed, “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Because”, Reynard continued, “You'd be able to continue living your life – With some minor hindrances of course, but still more free than in prison – With good pay. And your dog”

The man straightened up at the final bit, worry flashing about his face as quickly as it was gone again. Meve noticed it anyway. They had taken the dog alongside its owner, and she had quickly realized that the hacker seemed to be more upset about his pet's fate than his own at watching the protocols the police had given her. And the fact that he now stayed silent after Reynard's words spoke volumes to her. You just had to know which strings to pull to win someone for your cause.

“It's your choice, Mister Brossard. You know what we've got to offer. We'll get in touch with you again”, she said. Meve retrieved the file she had brought along and gave Reynard a court nod to indicate that they'd leave. She exited the room, her head of security following right after her.

***

Gascon stared at the ceiling of his cell, arms crossed behind his head on this terribly uncomfortable farce of a mattress. Getting caught on his supposedly last job as a hacker hadn't been on his schedule – with the money he made from it he would've been able to live a comfortable life away from all the trouble that had chased him in the years past. Everything had been absolutely waterproof. But still they had gotten him somehow, and he had no clue how exactly. Sure he had caught up on the fact that it had been an anonymous hint from somewhere, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out who had given the hint. He only knew that it bugged him immensely that someone had sold him out to the police.

Sure they had promised a fair trial, a proper lawyer and everything, but no matter how good it would end up for him, he'd still serve time behind iron bars. Enough time to make it near impossible to get back to the life he actually wanted and had planned to have after this job.

And now, as if she had read his mind, the head of the last security agency he had stolen data from had proposed this deal. To work for them instead of being sentenced to jail. And he knew they'd be able to pull that stunt, they were influential and rich enough, even if they'd surely get some restrictions to do that. Most likely no computers or mobile phones allowed outside of work. Maybe an electronic tag for him, even. The thought made him shudder and grimace unhappily, but at least he'd be outside instead of stuck in a stinking hellhole. He'd be able to put up without a computer or mobile for that, he supposed.

And most importantly, Knickers would be with him. Another point the guy she had been with had brought up, and it was a smart one. Gascon cared too much about his dog, the thought alone that he'd end up in a shelter or with a new family instead of being with him broke his heart. He had been his companion and anchor ever since he had found him, and the prospect of not having him around anymore made him feel sick. That woman and her friend had obviously figured that out, and cleverly decided to use it to their advantage. Why wouldn't they? To him, they had certainly looked like a pair that was used to getting what they wanted, no questions asked.

He sighed deeply, running his hands across his face. It wasn't much of a hard decision, if he was entirely honest to himself. The offer was good. Very good even. During his little 'operation' he had seen their employee data as well, who their team so far consisted of – only the best of the best, highly studied and trained people even the police was most likely jealous of and would probably kill to get their hands on if that hadn't been against the law. He also knew he'd be the black sheep of the team with his background, but the fact that they _wanted_ him in nonetheless almost made him feel honored. Even though it was clearly evident this was simply a matter of using someone with skill, rather than actually trusting him. Not that he'd complain, as he'd do exactly the same thing were their roles reversed – Why let talent waste away in prison if you could utilize it instead, as the guy had put it. A very logical and practical way of thinking, Gascon found.

The hacker sighed and stretched out, trying to get at least a little more comfortable. He had made up his mind. All that was left to do now was wait for that lady to show up again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easing into a new work environmet is never easy, especially if you colleagues decide to hate you right off the start.

Agreeing to the offer so far proved to be a good decision – if one ignored the electronic tag the police had demanded. And the lack of any electronic devices, as they had kept in all of his stuff and would most likely haul his ass into a monitored facility outside of work should he dare to break the rules. But other than that, things looked fine for Gascon.

He was even allowed to bring Knickers to work, which was admittedly the point that had sold him entirely on this. The dog didn't like to be alone, and he didn't have anyone to keep an eye on him while he was out, so Meve allowing Gascon to bring him along was something he was actually grateful for, though he wouldn't say it out loud. Most of the bureau didn't seem to mind, either, as there was another dog around the whole time anyway – a fluffy, orange German Spitz that had made Gascon laugh upon realizing it belonged to the company's secretary, Caldwell. Who was a rather rotund man with fading hair and an impressive mustache. Sure, he insisted Tiberius was his wife's dog and he only took him to work because his wife wasn't allowed to, but seeing the fat man with the small dog was such a ridiculous sight, it always managed to whisk a grin onto Gascon's face.

Knickers had tried to play with Tiberius on their first day, but it turned out the Spitz was just as aloof as his owner, not caring at all about the newcomers. On the contrary, both dog and owner seemed to be mostly annoyed by Gascon's presence, just like a good handful of his other co-workers. They thought they were something better, he could see it in the way they looked at him – derogatory, judgemental, biased upon his background. He hadn't suspected anything else, but there were moments when even his patience gave out and he had to bark back.

“You bloody dipshit, will you just let me do my work?”, Gascon snarled at the man next to him, who had once again leaned over his shoulder, snatched his keyboard and changed a code he had been working on. At first, Gascon had accepted the interruptions – you didn't want to make a too bad impression right off the bat, after all – but by now he had enough. Just because this asshole had a degree in what he was doing didn't mean he couldn't wait until Gascon was done to check on things. When the man plain ignored him, Gascon rose from his chair, pulling him with him at the collar of his shirt.

“Hey I'm _talking_ to you!”

“Oh, are you?”, the other replied, swatting away Gascon's hand as if it was an annoying fly, “You shouldn't even be here, and you know that. _Fucking thief_ ”

Gascon was prepared to punch the guy in the face, when another voice made him stop and turn around.

“What's going on here?”, Meve's voice sounded sharp enough to cut their heads off.

“This absolute dipshit is sabotaging my work!”, Gascon replied, too riled up by his anger about his co-worker to notice the threat in her voice, “He keeps interrupting while I'm not even done, goes and changes half of the code–”

“Sabotaging?”, the other cut him off, “I'm making sure you actually _do_ your work! Who knows what you'd do if I didn't check on you regularly? Might just as well go and steal more of our data, put backdoors into our systems”

He probably would've continued, hadn't Meve raised her voice at those accusations.

“Mind your position, Martin. I didn't authorize you to terrorize our new team member. And Gascon, keep your language in check. I don't want to hear anyone insulting each other in front of me or the rest of the team”, she said sharply and looked at both men for a period of time that apparently even made the guy who had worked for her longer uncomfortable. To Gascon it seemed like he was afraid his boss would indeed chop his head off any second by the way he suddenly started to cower. She turned to him first, as she continued speaking.

“You know very well we agreed on getting Gascon on our team because he knows exactly what he's doing. And yes, you're supposed to keep an eye on him, which in turn doesn't mean you have to hover over him like an agitated wasp”, she managed to keep her voice down, but her anger was clearly evident in every word she uttered. When she turned her gaze to Gascon, he nearly started at how cold it was. “And you, show some respect. I know Martin can be annoying, but you are just the same. So both of you, get your shit together and start _working_ instead of bickering and fighting like preschool children over a red crayon”

“Aye”, mumbled Gascon, Martin only nodded, avoiding his boss's eyes. Meve shook her head at them and then marched off to her office again, slamming the door shut behind her. Gascon looked at his co-worker – the man was silently grinding his teeth, giving him a glare when he noticed he was being watched.

“Don't think I can suddenly stand you, just because the boss got angry with us”, he hissed.

“Likewise”, Gascon replied. The dislike was mutual, that much wasn't even in question here.

After the quarrel, things finally started to work out more smoothly at least. Sure, Martin still bothered him and interrupted at a frequency that made him want to strangle the other man at times, but at least it wasn't as nerve-wrecking as before. Sure they'd never become friends, but Gascon had the silent hope Martin would someday just let him do his job in peace instead of acting like a paranoid mouse on crack around him.

***

The weeks passed quickly after this, a haze of new impressions and experiences. It was a new thing to work in a proper team – so far Gascon's 'freelance work' had consisted of him working entirely on his own, only getting checked by his clients every once in a while. So getting used to so many more people around, who he actually had to get along with somehow, was proving a challenge.

It took some time to adjust, and especially to figure out who he could talk to and who he should better avoid in order to not kick up too much dust. The number of the former wasn't too big, but he could deal with it. As long as those who couldn't stand him left him alone, Gascon didn't endanger anyone to getting into a fight with him, since he just wouldn't let insults and bad worst rest. He knew it probably wasn't best to pick fights with anyone who dropped an impolite remark, but he simply couldn't keep his mouth shut at such things. He had been struggling and fighting nearly all his life, there was no way he'd let a bunch of ass-kissers drag his accomplishments through the mud, no matter if most of them had been attained through less-than-legal means.

His more or less impudent behaviour got him into scolding talks with Meve and Reynard more often than not, but at least all they did was threatening him with pay cuts and letting him keep the electronic tag for longer than he'd already have to wear it. They knew he was a good addition to the general team, he just managed to rub a good amount of people exactly the wrong way. Everyone just had to learn to deal with it, even if it took a long time.

Accordingly surprising it was when Meve asked him whether he wanted to join them in their yearly company party at the beginning of June.

“Wait, you really want me in on that?”, he asked, confused about the offer. Sure he'd been working for them for several months now, but for some reason he hadn't thought of already getting invited to participate in a company event. Not to mention that he still had to wear that goddamned tag.

“Of course”, Meve replied, apparently confused about him being surprised about that at all. “You're part of the team, so you're invited”

He spent some time being confused yet strangely happy about that – obviously this was another thing he had missed out on since he had never worked for an actual company before. And if the party turned out to be as nice as his co-workers made it out to be, he'd have the time of his life that evening.

***

June came around, and with it the first properly warm days of the year. Perfect for the little party the company was holding every year, almost as if to welcome the summer and its long days. Gascon found himself surprisingly excited for the event – the whole team was around, and since there'd most likely be enough alcohol and food, he'd be very well able to avoid the co-workers he couldn't stand and focus on those he liked instead. And unexpectedly enough, Meve and Reynard turned out to be among those whose company he enjoyed and actively sought out, even at work. They appreciated his wits and cleverness, didn't mind his less than ideal background – though they didn't exactly say that, it was still apparent in the way they acted around him. Sure, they still rolled their eyes at his jokes, but so did nearly everyone. They just didn't know how to appreciate his sense of humor, Gascon thought. Yet nonetheless he had felt that he caught at least Meve smiling at his dumb remarks every now and then, when she thought he wasn't able to see.

Gascon's gaze wandered over the property the party took place at: a large outside area close to the river, surrounded by trees and bushes and smaller patches of nicely smelling flowers, so it seemed like you were somewhere entirely else, not almost at the heart of the city. Fairy lights and colourful decorations had been propped up around the lanterns that would illuminate the area as soon as it got dark. It looked calm and peaceful, the music that played wasn't too loud or annoying and after the food had been served at a buffet, everyone had more or less split up into smaller groups, just sitting and chatting or playing darts and card games. He had been told there would be a fire show and fireworks later on, but until then Gascon had some time to kill. He looked around for an occupation and spied Meve and Reynard at one of the tables, glasses in their hands and chatting silently. Grinning widely, he walked over to them.

“Hey you two! I've been looking for some company for a game of cards – You in?”, he asked as he arrived. He had wanted to feel out these two stoic characters a little more – there was something decidedly intriguing about them in his opinion. Subtle details nobody else seemed to notice, as they were too intimidated by their bosses, simply because they had great poker faces. He wouldn't say that he was able to peek behind their facades, but they had piqued his interest the moment they had suggested that he worked for them, if he was entirely honest. Not everyone would dare to suggest a deal like that. And he wanted to know what was behind the scary exterior, if only so sate his own curiosity – well, and maybe annoy his coworkers with the fact that _he_ , of all people, managed to get along with them the best.

Meve and Reynard looked at him, the man with obvious with confusion on his face. Though they were on a more or less friendly base by now, as opposed to how much they had been arguing at the very beginning of Gascon's time at the company, he had apparently not anticipated that the younger man would want to play cards with them. Meve, on the other hand, seemed rather delighted about the suggestion.

“Sure, why not”, she said. It was apparently easier for her than for him to let the guard down, if only a little bit.

Meve and Reynard turned out to be excellent choices for card games, both of them playing with a finesse Gascon had rarely seen in anyone else before. At being asked how they were so good, they mentioned they were often playing cards at home in the evening, when there was nothing interesting on TV. Gascon took up supplying the three of them with drinks when their glasses were empty at one point, the trio subsequently crossing the threshold to being tipsy eventually. Nobody seemed to mind, though, as he noticed a good amount of their colleagues were just as good on their drinks, if not at a later stage already. Dusk had set in by now, but it would take a little longer until they started the fireworks and the show.

“Since we're pretty equal here, I suggest we spice this up a little”, Gascon said, leaning back on his chair. The beer was slowly getting to him, giving him that slightly fuzzy feeling of being tipsy, yet not fully drunk. “Whoever loses this round has to bring the winner their coffee for a whole week”

“... That's ridiculous”, answered Reynard after a short moment of silence, “Not to mention that it would entirely undermine the hierarchy at work”

A grin crossed Gascon's face at those words. “You're just afraid of losing to me”

“No I'm not!”, Reynard's response came almost immediately.

“Afrai~d”, Gascon continued teasing, his grin widening. He enjoyed how huffed with this idea Reynard got. One of the rare moments he saw the man show an actual emotion that didn't border on 'I will skin you alive' and he found it absolutely delightful.

“Don't take this too far, Gascon”, Reynard hissed.

Meve laughed at the glare he gave Gascon. “Boys, boys, calm down”, she said, seeming in no way worried about Reynard's anger, which only made Gascon's grin widen even more, if that was even possible at this point. Reassuring to know the man seemed to be mostly bark and no bite. It meant more chances to tease him, too, Gascon decided in that moment. He was having way too much fun here to ignore that bit of knowledge.

“Let's just do this, alright?”, Meve continued, much to Reynard's dismay. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek at seeing his disgruntled look. He continued grumbling silently, but didn't object any more, apparently pacified by the small gesture.

Unfortunately for him, Reynard was the first to get kicked out of the game. Regret was clearly evident on his face at the realization that he'd be the coffee boy for a week, and he looked at Meve like he was praying to all gods above that would listen to him that she'd win against Gascon. For a while it looked like his prayers were being heard, until Gascon's typical grin returned to his face and he beat Meve with one clever move. She stared at the cards on the table for some moments, then laughed almost inaudibly.

“Touché”, she said and shot Reynard and apologizing look. He had buried his face in his hands, so obviously unhappy about the end of this match that it made Gascon laugh out loud.

“Aw, Reynard come on – I won't be mean, I promise”, he grinned, “I'm easy to please with black coffee and a spoon of sugar. That should be manageable, right?”

Reynard looked at him like he'd bite his head off any second, but it only made Gascon giggle in amusement. Whether Reynard would actually go through with their bet, he'd see the coming Monday – And even if he didn't, Gascon was at least able to say that he did indeed have a great time at the party.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time of peace is never meant to last forever, and Gascon has to realize that earlier than he would've liked when his past starts to catch up to him.

A week of getting his coffee delivered right to his table without having to move an inch was decidedly worth the scowl he received from Reynard every single time. Even more so when Gascon noticed he could tease the other man to a very certain extend before he got genuinely angry with him – which happened once and was quickly broken down by Meve, but it had certainly helped him to figure out this broody guy a little more.

As much as he acted tough and in control of everything, poking him with just the right things made Reynard rather fall silent and stomp off to his desk than yell at Gascon – and the hacker found a certain sense of delight in exactly that. It was a bit of a balancing act of dropping suggestive comments and dumb jokes, but it wasn't like he wasn't good at it. He had practice enough in that department, after all.

One of his colleagues warned him to not attempt to pinch their boss's boyfriend at some point, noticing the obvious lack of respect and what apparently counted as flirting in his book. But Gascon was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to manage that even if he was given ten years time to properly flirt with Reynard – he had already noticed how devoted the man was to Meve, and she, in turn, seemed unfazed by Gascon's remarks toward him. The two were a team that an obscure former criminal could hardly tear apart by simply teasing one of them for fun.

For some reason though, the strange, little conversations didn't stop after the week of the bet was over. On the contrary, they only increased in frequency – which was probably what had prompted his co-worker's warning in the first place.

He'd find himself chatting with Meve and Reynard over a cup of coffee in their breaks, dropping a small jest every once in a while when both of them passed his workplace. He was certain he saw Meve hide a smile every now and then at Reynard's more and more failing attempts to keep his composure at being poked with topics Gascon had figured out made him react so gorgeously embarrassed. He was getting good at this little game and he didn't intend to stop until he got called out, which fortunately hadn't happened yet.

They even asked for advice in terms of security measures much more regularly than before. It earned him hate-filled looks from Martin more often than not – of course he was angry about the newbie getting more attention and trust from their superiors, unlike him who had worked for them for years now. Gascon kept his remarks to himself, as he had promised to Meve, but seeing his co-worker so envious filled him with a sense of malicious glee. _That's what you get for being an asshole_ , was his opinion on the matter.

Yet, this time of peace wasn't meant to last forever, Gascon had to come to realize just a few weeks later. Time was passing surprisingly quickly and he had already forgotten about certain parts of his past that were about to catch up with him quicker than he would have thought.

***

It happened on a weekend after a well-spent Friday night. He wasn't rid off the damned electronic tag yet, so those people keeping an eye on him always knew where he spent his evenings, but at least bars and pubs weren't forbidden territory. It had felt good to get out with some old friends again, touching up the relationships he had neglected for quite some time now. Fortunately, his friends were used to him vanishing off the radar every now and then, especially his best friend. So they hadn't been too worried not hearing from him for a month or two.

They had spent a long time filling up on what they had missed out on in each other's lives while sharing a few pints of beer. It wasn't enough alcohol to cause Gascon a hangover, but the night had certainly been long enough to warrant sleeping until noon.

The chime of his doorbell got included in his dreams until it became too obtrusive and actually woke him up. He peeled himself out of his comfortable bed, grumbling silently about the intruder who wouldn't let him sleep. It was the weekend, goddammit! No mailman rang more than once and the sound of the bell indicated that someone was standing right in front of his flat, impatiently pushing the button over and over again. He muttered obscene curses under his breath at whoever had let the house's door open once again, or had let a bunch of Jehovah's Witness or a door-to-door salesman into the building at least. Those people were surprisingly persistent, he had noticed, especially once they had gotten to your flat's door. And they were the most likely to show up at this time of the day when one hadn't scheduled a date with a friend or anything similar.

Gascon's grumpiness persisted until he opened his door – and stood face to face with a figure that could've been straight from a horror movie, waking him up entirely in an instant. He knew the features of this man very well by now. A large burn scar covered half of his face, making him look intimidating despite having had an absolutely average appearance before his accident. Gascon had known him back then already, their association having begun a few years ago. And he had certainly looked less intimidating back then, though his clothing style hadn't changed. He was dressed in a suit as usual, what remained of his short hair unstyled – not that an attempt at styling it would've worked at all or made him look much better anyway. And the pin in shape of a golden sun at his lapel would let anyone who was familiar with the icon know he meant trouble.

“Xavier, heyyy … What brings you over here?”, Gascon said, already getting pushed to the side so the other man could enter his flat. He had no idea if Xavier was even his real name – most likely it wasn't, but Gascon was not stupid enough to go digging and find it out. That might've cost him his head.

He gingerly closed the door behind him, uncomfortable at the mere presence of that guy. He never meant anything good, especially now after he was supposed to be off the hook. Getting involved with the Mafia hadn't been a good idea in the first place, Gascon knew that much by now, but he had really hoped they'd at least leave him alone after their supposedly final cooperation.

“A little bird told us you're working for our competitors now”, Xavier crushed his hopes of being rid of the Blackclads' influence over his life. The man's voice never failed send a shiver down Gascon's spine – raspy and silent, threatening without even attempting to. A side effect of the burn that disfigured him, and very much of advantage in his line of work, compared to before.

“Ah, well, you know-”, Gascon started but got cut off by Xavier before he was even able to formulate the hint of a proper answer.

“Which wasn't the intention of our deal, but the boss thinks there's actually a good use for that as well. You'll tell us what you find out while you're working for those idiots. That shouldn't be too hard for you, right?”

Gascon listened nervously. His answer came with some reluctance, knowing the Blackclads didn't like to lose an informant. Especially if he had managed to get into enemy ranks and was thus even more valuable.

“I'd rather not to be quite frank”

“You know we don't take _No_ for an answer, Gascon”

“... was afraid you'd say that”, he mumbled, screwing up his face for a moment. He had no intention of working for them again. “Listen, I've done what you wanted me to. We were supposed to be done. You promised I'm off the hook after that job, and that job got handled to your boss's satisfaction. Everything else is none of your concern anymore, you said that yourself – I don't even know shit about you other than your face and even that wouldn't be enough to pin anything on you guys. You know I can't tell them anything they don't already know so that's out of the game. I'm no threat to you, so keep me out of this”

Xavier turned to face him, shaking his head with a sigh at those words.

“You disappoint me. The last time we spoke you were so eager to work for us. Thought you'd jump on the chance to pay those people back for catching you and then daring to force you into working for them just so you can keep your dog”

Gascon blinked at the mobster – of course they had figured out the details of the deal. It might've as well been a good guess on Xavier's side, but nevertheless it didn't fail to stun Gascon into a moment of silence before he caught himself. “I wasn't eager, I was fucking desperate!”, he replied, having found his voice again, “Stop twisting the truth. I don't want to work for you anymore”

“Second strike, Gascon”, Xavier said casually, walking about his living room with no clear intention, looking at the few decorations and pictures he had around. Last time he had been here, there had been computer equipment around on a lot of the surfaces, which were now orphaned and empty. “You've got one more chance to say the right thing”

Gascon swallowed hard at that, staying silent. He didn't want back in on a deal with the Blackclads, he had been so happy to be finally away from the mob. And now that. Someone telling them that he now worked for the very security company they had been trying to gradually burn down for years, and since that didn't really work, attempted to exploit for their own use with the job they had given Gascon. A bad feeling in his guts whispered to him that it had all been planned to work out exactly like that. They had wanted a proper snitch in their ranks, and now they had one. The thought made his head spin.

“I'm still waiting for your answer”, said Xavier, calmly walking over to him. Gascon slowly shook his head.

“No. I–” He wheezed heavily as the other man drove his fist into his stomach, causing him to topple over and gasp for air. His head was pulled up painfully with a yank on his hair and this time Xavier's knuckles met his face. He let go of him, watching him drop to the floor. Gascon coughed, spitting blood from biting his tongue at the punch. He could feel his lip was split open, too. His guts took another hit, just moments later, this time from a shoe and he groaned in pain.

“Your answer, Gascon”, the mobster prompted once again. Gascon shook his head, gritting his teeth and curling up into a ball when his stomach got another kick. He was sure Xavier could continue like that for hours if he wanted to.

Just when Xavier's foot was about to go down on him once more, a loud bark and growling made him stop. Gascon looked up, seeing the mobster's gaze wander over to Knickers, who was about to go and attack the man that was beating up his owner. A malicious smile appeared on Xavier's face.

“Maybe my arguments haven't been good enough yet”, he said and and took a step towards the dog, which jumped back and barked again, obviously startled by the stranger's sudden attention and being stared right in the eyes. Gascon felt like he had been plunged into ice water, realizing the man's intentions.

“... No. No! Fuck, stop it!”, he managed to cough out and the mobster stopped in his tracks. Knickers was still growling at him, ready to lunge at a wrong movement. “ _Fine_. I'll do it”

“Good”, came Xavier's court answer – and another kick as goodbye before he left the flat. Gascon stayed on the floor for some time, wheezing and not even attempting to hold back the tears of pain and frustration that had come to his eyes. He had thought this thing was over. But instead he was up shit creek without a paddle once again.

Knickers lay down by his master's side as soon as he was sure the danger was gone, gently licking his hands. At least the pup hadn't attacked Xavier and instead just attempted to be threatening – Gascon had no doubt the man would've straight up broken the dog's neck had he gone and bitten him.

“Good boy”, Gascon mumbled as soon as he was able to utter words again, pulling his pet close to bury his nose in his fur for a while and let his presence soothe him until the pain was bearable.

This situation was a disaster. Complete and utter shit, and he knew it.

He didn't want to tell Xavier a single thing when he returned for new info, but he knew he'd end up a dead man if he didn't obey. And Gascon didn't know what was worse: Betraying the people he was finally able to call his friends, or to die a slow and most likely painful death at the hands of the Blackclads.

 


End file.
